


A Snow Day

by MASTERcornflake



Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Cultist’s Base, Demons, Doom, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Snow Day, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MASTERcornflake/pseuds/MASTERcornflake
Summary: Just a little cutesy one shot between the DoomSlayer and the Marauder. They play in the snow and have some well earned fun.
Relationships: Doom Slayer | Doomguy/Marauder(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	A Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! Stay safe you magnificent guys, gals, and non-binary pals! 
> 
> :D

There wasn’t any one specific reason the Slayer wanted to return to the Cultist’s Base. The demons had all but abandoned it after the fall of its priest, leaving a handful of zombies and imps behind to fend for themselves. Perhaps unease between leaving Vega in Urdak or the fact he knew the fight wasn’t yet over. Despite the Icon of Sin’s defeat, there were still demons swarming Urdak like bees swarming a hive. 

The calm before the storm... 

Either way at least he had an ally to watch his back. The marauder walked a few paces behind the man, looking around at everything like a middle aged tourist. “I’ve never actually visited the Cultist’s Base before. I was supposed to be stationed here but they moved me down to that ARC complex.” He stopped to look up at the long icicles that hung from the ceiling; then, hugged his arms around himself in an effort to stay warm, “It’s pretty here but cold.” 

The Slayer looked over his shoulder and gave him curt nod. It was pretty, but his mind was still clouded with the worries of being inside a demonic stronghold. He never would know it was totally abandoned until he painstakingly cleared out every single room. Perhaps that’s why he was drawn back to the base? To try and finish his near impossible task of clearing out demons. He stopped walking and rubbed at the forehead of his helmet. What had drawn him here? 

A clawed hand touching his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts with a jump. The marauder stared down at him with a worried look, “Are you ok?” 

He just shrugged; then, he noticed a large snowy area through one of the large doors. It must have been used for training the demons; snow that was a foot thick covered the ground in a smooth blanket. 

Visions of his far distant childhood flashed into his mind. Faint memories of playing in the snow with other people; their laughter and shouts of joy filled the air but that was a long time ago...

He found himself standing in the middle of the training arena, staring back at his own footprints and a confused marauder giving him a quizzical look from inside the safety of the doorway. 

“What are you doing?” He took a step in the snow then sheepishly backed out of the cold powder. This time he spoke with more concern in his voice, “It’s freezing get over here.” 

The Slayer glanced up at the demon with a happy grin hidden under his helmet, and he stretched out his arms, falling back into the snow.

His eyes went wide at he sight of the Great Slayer collapsing into the snow. “SLAYER!” He ran out into the snow frantic to get over to the man. He had never seen him collapse or show any weakness; he must have been critically wounded in battle. As he approached the man, expecting him to be lying in pools of blood and gore, he was shocked to see him simply lying down in the snow waving arms and legs. Quickly he wiped some tears out of his eyes before the man could see them. His fear was replaced with the feeling of rage. “What are you doing? I though you were hurt!” 

The Slayer continued waving his arms and legs until they carved large arcs in the snow; then, held up his hand waiting for the marauder to take hold of it. 

The demon grumbled and grabbed the man’s hand, yanking him up from the snow. “You’re a jerk.” 

When the Slayer looked up expecting a playful smile he was instead met with the demon’s upset, pissed off face. The man gave the demon a sad look; he never thought the marauder would get upset at his snow day antics. Giving the demon a solemn nod, he slowly walked back to the doorway with his head down. Besides, he was probably too old to be playing in the snow. 

The marauder watched the man mope his way back to the door, and just before he followed he glanced down at the snow. It took him a second to make out what the Slayer had made but as soon as he did the realization hit him like a brick. The Slayer had made a snow angel. Wincing, the demon reached a clawed hand towards the man but gave up halfway through the motion, letting his hand swing back down to his side. He felt like an asshole. 

The Slayer sat down inside the hallway and blankly stared down one of the corridors. He was tired and sick of constantly being ready for battle. Honestly, the most plausible reason he was so drawn to this place was just to play in the snow, but now that he was finally here he felt childish and stupid. Flexing his fingers under his suit, he tried to distract himself from the pain of his embarrassment. 

Flopping down in the middle of what was technically still hostile territory? He couldn’t believe he was that childish. 

While the man sat in the hallway, the marauder picked up a handful of the snow and shaped it into a somewhat spherical shape. This was a huge risk he was about to take. This would either make the man sadder or lift his spirits. The marauder pulled his arm back and threw the snow ball at the Slayer’s helmet. 

It hit his armored head with a thud and shocked the Slayer out of his musings. Just a suddenly as the snowball had hit him, he remembered that he loved snow ball fights. 

The marauder stood out in the snowy training field, “You made a... a... snow angel. I’m sorry I yelled at you- ACKK!” The marauder was cut off my a snow ball hitting his face. “THAT IS COLD!”

To hell with being to old to have fun. The Slayer decided in that split second that he had earned some fun and consciences be damned. If he wanted to play in the snow and make snow angels he would. 

The Slayer sprinted out into the field, leaned down, and formed a snowball while on the run. Him and the demon danced in a battle of snow. They fired snowballs at each other and rolled out of the way. It was beautiful wonderful chaos that lasted for a long time since both were too proud and strong to take a break. 

The marauder fired a snowball that hit the Slayer’s visor dead center. The man groaned and stumbled, making a dramatic show of it and fell to his knees. 

The marauder was out of breath and gave the Slayer’s drama a weak smile. He placed his hands on his knees and bent his legs to help him catch his breath. “Did... h-ha... did I finally defeat the Great Slayer?” 

The man nodded and fell backwards in the snow with a loud painfully fake groan. 

The marauder walked over to the Slayer and laid down beside him. They stared up at the bleak, overcast sky. 

The Slayer took his helmet off and wiped the snow off its visor with his armored palm, placed it on his stomach, and wrapped his hands around it. 

Rolling on his side and propping his head up with his hand, the marauder looked at the Slayer’s features. 

Scars of all types dances across the man’s face. Silvery ones from his ancient days as a marine criss-crossed his nose. From his time on Mars he gathered ones that had taken some of his flesh left healed dips and slices to dot his face. The freshest scar, still pink and scabbed over, was from a hell knight that had got the better of him. 

While he admired the plentiful scars snowflakes had drifted down from the heavens, dotting the man’s face with tiny icy crystals. His blond hair was adorned with the tender cold kisses from above. The snowflakes dotted his eye lashes in fluffy white clumps. With every breath he blew a few stray snowflakes into the air in swirling arcing dances. 

The demon noticed the man’s lips were rosy and looked tender and soft; they were gently parted but only just barely. The tip of his nose was a light red from the cold nipping at his skin. 

His cheeks were red with blush too but the Slayer couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the marauder giving him such a caring, loving look.


End file.
